


Amelia and the Bee's Knees

by April in Paris (April_in_Paris)



Series: Coopmelia [4]
Category: Coopmelia - Fandom, Shamy - Fandom, The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8347612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/April_in_Paris/pseuds/April%20in%20Paris
Summary: In which our protagonist and her beloved travel to the Roaring Twenties to indulge in all the frivolous amusements of New York City, smug and carefree that their historical knowledge will make their plans foolproof. But even hindsight isn't 20/20, and impulsive decisions are made that will change the course of their lives. AU - COOPMELIA #4
Originally published on fanfiction.net on 7-10-2016.





	1. Chapter 1

 

_Bleeep. Bleeep._

Amelia woke to the sounds of honking. She rubbed her eyes against the sunlight streaming in the window, and, for a second, tried to remember when she was. It was an occupational hazard as a time traveller. Oh, yes, New York City. The top of her mouth felt like dry cloth and she ran her tongue along it. Oh, yes, the speakeasy last night. Cooper was right, perhaps she shouldn't have drunk there -

Cooper!

She rolled over quickly and brushed her hand over the empty pillow. He was gone. What time was it? Shouldn't he have woke her? Amelia reached up to rub her head. Her brain felt thick and foggy. Was it the alcohol? Then it all came back to her. It was a memory of adrenaline, the pounding tension of fear. Just thinking about Cooper being lost to time, just recalling the events of the previous night made her heart start to race again. She put her hand over chest.

No. She wouldn't think about it. She would get up and she would spend her day alone in New York City. Cooper had given her instructions, and Amelia would follow through and she wouldn't think about why she was alone. She would make him proud by standing up straight and moving on, just the way he loved her. She had never been afraid in a new time before, and today didn't seem like the day to start.

Shaking the cobwebs away, she got out of bed and went to the bathroom to pour herself a glass of cold water in a cut crystal highball glass. She padded through their hotel suite, all sleek emerald greens and white and blacks and golds, in her appropriately emerald-green kimono pajamas to stand on the balcony and overlook Central Park. It was a beautiful, crisp autumn morning. Not cold yet, just a chill in the wind, especially this high up. She had never enjoyed autumn, mostly because of the amount of work at harvest and the portent of winter, but New York City reveled in autumn. The park spread out below her, a sea of golds and yellows and reds. All the trees had seemed to turn just this week.

Of all the places she had been, this time and place had quickly become her favorite during the past week. It was so radically different than the prairie where she first met Cooper; it was exuberance and the prairie was tranquility. It was that difference that made it perfect for their anniversary outing: a reminder of how far they'd come together, both literally and figuratively. And through the magic of time travel the prairie was always there. For her birthday, they had gone to Kansas in 1400 for the perfect day. They picnicked outside the time machine on the pizza they'd brought with them, watched a herd of buffalo on the move from a distance, made love and then took a nap in the spring wildflowers.

There had been other times: Pisa with Galileo Galilei, Newport with Edith Wharton, and, of course, 1880s England with H.G. Wells. Cooper's plan had worked perfectly; Mr. Wells was more than happy to post Amelia's letters to Kansas and hold the ones he received for her. He seemed eager to perform this odd task for the eccentric nomadic couple, because evenings spent by the fire in conversation with them led him to stay up most the night scribbling strange ideas on paper. Cooper had informed him he was a scientist and inventor, slyly letting slip just a few choice phrases and details. Nothing was more enchanting to Amelia: strong, sure Cooper blending in, postulating in a falsely casual way on the existence of chronic argonauts to the young teacher, his eyes dancing with delight as they flicked to Amelia's.

Cooper. Cooper wasn't here and she was alone, the day and the city yawning before her. He had known she could do this alone, he didn't doubt her at all. He would be disappointed if he ever knew she puttered around the hotel room all day or sobbed in bed, feeling sorry for herself.

To think that yesterday evening her biggest disappointment was not being including in Cooper's planned meeting at the Hotel New York with Tesla because of sexism. "It's not fair you get to meet all the famous people just because you're a man."

"I know," Cooper had said last night, adjusting his tie. "I'm sorry. But try to enjoy your day. Go for a walk in the park. Go buy that first edition of Agatha Christie's new book for your collection. Go to Tiffany's, buy something."

"Cooper! You're just as bad as all those other men!" She had huffed, pulling her glove up above her elbow. "You cannot just silence a woman with jewelry!"

"I wouldn't dream of it. But," he patted down his hair in the mirror once more, "you love shiny things. You even let Penelope pierce your ears so you could wear more shiny things. I wouldn't be surprised if you came home with a tiara and claimed to be a princess. Anyway, I anticipate, given the date, that we'll be discussing his plans for the VTOL aircraft, which you'd have no interest in."

Amelia grunted. It pained her to admit it, but he was right. The last place she wanted to be was in a stuffy hotel room with a bitter and possibly anti-social man discussing engineering when all of New York City was at her feet. But it was still the principle that rankled her.

"Come on, my little bear cat. No pouting. It's our anniversary and we're going out!" He'd wrapped his long arms around her beaded dress, careful not to mess up the headband she was wearing. "Let's get our wiggle on and head out for the juice joint!"

Surprised, Amelia laughed at his overuse of period slang and eagerly left with him, his new pinstripe suit looking especially alluring across his broad shoulders. To think he hadn't wanted to go, yet there he was, going to commit a crime with her that he had tried and failed to talk her out of. Even now, standing on the balcony in her pajamas, her glass of water drained, she couldn't help but smile sadly despite how it had all turned out.

Before it could turn into a frown or regrets started to form, she went back inside to escape the chill seeping through her, ordered a room service breakfast, and started the taps to take a hot bath.

* * *

One of the most magical things about time travel - and there were so many - was hindsight. With relative ease, Amelia and Cooper could look up almost anything they wanted to know about a certain location and date before they ever left. Definitive facts, not just impressions or subjective descriptions. Weather reports were especially helpful.

This week of celebration had been planned not only because it was autumn secondary to Amelia's preference to not travel out of season, but also for the weather. Leaving the morning after their own, modern Halloween celebrations, they had arrived at the end of a brief heat wave, summer temperatures despite the turning leaves around them. This allowed them to enjoy both a bit of New York City summer and autumn. "Two seasons for the price of one!" Cooper had enthused.

First, though, there was the always anxiety inducing first day. Would the carefully studied historic maps of Grand Central Station be correct, so the time machine would land in an unused and forgotten room? Would the chocolate settle their stomachs? Would their costumes be period appropriate so that they wouldn't stand out too much but simple enough that the need to buy a whole new expensive wardrobe would seem rational to the sales clerks? Most stressful of all, would their counterfeit money be accepted and would their story about just striking it rich on the stock market be accepted? They went straight to Bergdorf's, where they separated to be measured and tempted and pampered, Amelia by dresses in beautiful, rich autumnal colors. She felt like Daisy in  _The Great Gatsby,_  throwing all those silk shirts in the air and crying at their beauty.

Leaving in her new dress and cloche, Amelia hooked her arm through Cooper's elbow and sashayed down the side walk with him toward the hotel they had decided upon. She laughed at the bleating honks of the old fashioned cars and marveled at the bustling, busy streets. Modern Los Angles was busy too, but not with this level of immediacy. Every one in L.A. wanted to be alone, sealed-off in their cars or staring at their screens even the bus. Here, the city felt like one great moving organism.

The penthouse suite was available just as they knew it would be, and they could barely get the bellhop to leave fast enough before their new clothes were tossed aside and they took each took each other on that black lacquered bed.

"Are you happy?" Cooper asked panting afterwards, curling his naked form around her.

"Yes. It's the cat's pajamas!"

He chuckled into her ear. "We really need to get up and get dressed before those packages arrive from Bergdorf's."

"Mmmm," Amelia said, "I guess you're correct. A bath?"

Sitting upright, Cooper smiled. "Well, it wouldn't be one of our adventures if we didn't end up naked in a pool of water. And, no! -" he added in a rush, holding up a finger "- I still refuse to jump into the fountain at Union Square." He took a deep breath. "I'm famished. Room service?"

"Oh, yes!" She started to get up herself, watching Cooper button his crisp white shirt again.

"Get me whatever you're having," Amelia said as she walked into the bathroom. She had just slipped into the bathtub when she heard the suite door open and a good deal of commotion. Cooper popped his head around the door. "The packages just arrived. I told them to deliver our food in a half hour."

"Good." Amelia leaned her head back against the edge of the claw-foot tub and watched Cooper undress before he slid into the end opposite her. He reached down to pick up her foot and massage it and she smiled. Ah, he was going to soap her up first this time.

Later, they sat at their little room service table in the plush hotel robes and hungrily ate their dinner. "I've never had a fried egg sandwich before," Amelia said.

"I asked the desk clerk to send up two of his favorites. But I'm not sure about this. You know I don't like breakfast foods for dinner," he said, picking up a piece of bacon and putting it down again with a shake of his head. "It's disorganized."

"I think it's decedent. And the whole point of this week is to be decedent."

He smiled over at her. "You're right." He leaned closer and kissed her with warm eggy lips. "Do you want to be decadent again?"

Amelia giggled and let herself be led to bed once more.

The next morning, she yawned and stretched. The sun was streaming in, and she looked over at her still-sleeping husband. It seemed impossible that a year ago she was on the prairie, only knowing one life and two possible outcomes: marriage to a local farmer or ending up a spinster, maybe a teacher in the same one-room schoolhouse she had attended. But this handsome man had opened up her world and her life to an existence she didn't know was possible. Moved by her love for him, she reached over to brush her fingertips through his peaked bed hair.

"Mmmm," he stirred and woke.

"Good morning, my time traveling physicist," she purred.

"Amelia Shelton, are you trying to seduce me?" he asked.

"Trying?" she asked, widening her eyes. She reached her free hand further down the bed. "Feels like succeeding to me."

"Does it?" Cooper said, using his superior body strength to flop her on her back.

Laughing Amelia wove her arms around his neck, letting him silence her with a kiss, spreading her legs for him - "Wait." She squirmed.

"What?" Cooper asked, raising up on his arms, his face concerned.

"Something is different." She wiggled a bit in bed. "I'm sorry, get up. I need to go to the bathroom."

Cooper rolled off of her as she ducked into the adjoining room. A few minutes later, she emerged with a frown. "We have a problem."

"Are you unwell?" Cooper asked in a rush, lowering the newspaper he was reading.

"I'm alright. It's just that . . . my birth control ring is broken. I had to take it out, it was poking me."

"What?" Cooper lurched forward in bed, but Amelia waved him back, coming to sit next to him. "Did it injure you?"

"No, but I don't think I should wear it anymore."

"I agree." He frowned. "What do you think happened? A manufacturing defect? Surely not the stresses of time travel because our bodies are undamaged."

"I don't know." Amelia shook her head. "I'm sorry." It was such a mystery to her as the ring form of birth control had worked so well for them in the past; effective, well hidden from history, and easy to tuck an extra one into a hidden pocket in case timing was such she needed to replace it on their journeys. But the need shouldn't have happened here and there was no back-up.

"Why are you sorry? It's not your fault. I wonder if I should have noticed it last night, but everything felt normal." He shrugged in a defeated manner.

"It's just that we haven't even been here twenty-four hours yet . . ."

"Oh, Amelia," he said and pulled her closer to him. "Believe me, if I could contain myself that first time in your log cabin, I can contain myself here."

"Who said it was  _your_ willpower I was worried about?" She heard Cooper's soft but catchy laugh in her hair and smiled. "It doesn't matter. We have all week to explore this vibrant and beautiful city and we have each other, and that's all I really want."

"Coney Island today!" Cooper said, and Amelia knew it was because it was one of the things to which she was most looking forward. "Room service again?"

Nodding, Amelia pulled the sheet up over herself and watched as Cooper picked up the old-fashioned phone and ordered omelettes and fresh fruit. "But absolutely no avocados," he instructed. A pause. "They're a green tree fruit with a creamy sort of texture - Nevermind. Just berries or melons, please."

Amelia welcomed him back next to her with a chuckle. "There's a shower head here. Do you want the bathroom first?"

"We have some time," Cooper replied, pulling her in close.

Cuddling, Amelia closed her eyes. She opened them again when she had a sudden idea. "Cooper, do you think it's real?"

"What?" he asked.

"You now . . . the first twenty-four hours."

"As opposed to the placebo effect?"

"I don't know. It feels very real. I wonder if there would be a way for scientist to study it, like maybe something happens in the brain, all the chemicals I read about once," Amelia said.

"Are you sure you want to major in English? You sounded like you had an interest in neurobiology there for a second," Cooper asked. "Caltech has an excellent neurobiology department."

Shaking her head, Amelia said, "No. It was just a passing thought."

"I love your passing thoughts. And -" he added quickly "- I love the first twenty four hours, no matter what causes the uptick in our libidos. Mmmm." He started nuzzling her neck.

She pushed him away even as her body started aching for him again. "Cooper, I think you need to go take that cold shower right now as you seem to have no control over your uptick."

He groaned and rolled away from her. "I'm going," he whined and stood to walk to the bathroom. Amelia watched his beautiful and aroused body leaving her.

Flopping back again the pillow, she muttered, "Stupid birth control." Then, louder, both so Cooper could hear and to convince herself, "It could be a good thing. One thing always goes wrong, and now it has. That means everything else will go exactly according to plan."

* * *

Although it was unseasonably warm, being a weekday and so late in the season, Coney Island was not as crowded as it would have been at the height of summer. After taking the subway out, they rode all the rides, watched a man get shot out of a canon, played ring toss and all the other carnival games, and enjoyed a late lunch on the beach of hot dogs and ice cream, eating them in reverse to prevent the ice cream from melting.

"Don't you just love the ocean?" Amelia sighed. She found it hard to explain, but in some ways it reminded her of the prairie: the endless expanse, earth meeting horizon with nothing blocking one's view, the wind, the waves. Cooper had indulged her with a couple of trips to the beach in Los Angles over the summer when some of their friends went, but they both didn't like to get in the water given all the pollution. Of course, there was that day they had the beach all to themselves when they traveled back in time to visit her parents. Maybe she should suggest another trip back in time for that.

"It's fine," Cooper said, leaning back on his elbows in the sand. "But I know you love it. And this is your week."

"It's  _our_  week. Can you believe we've been married almost a year now?" Amelia mimicked his posture and then leaned back even further, so she was lying down, sweeping her hat off and setting it beside her. She shut her eyes. The sand was hot from the sun, and she felt it heating her from below as the sun warmed her from above. The skin on her bare arms was already developing a faint pinkish hue, sleeveless fashions being all the rage here.

"Yes, it's our anniversary, but you're the one who passed your GED and are starting at Caltech in January." He paused. "If you do the math of the actual number of days we've spent in each other's presence, we've known each other more than a year. Some of trips we came back the day after we left in the future, even though we were in the past longer. Just like this trip: we left early, for the weather, to a year from when we met each other but we'll be back after our wedding anniversary even though we won't be gone two weeks."

Amelia shielded her eyes from the sun as she opened them and turned her head to look at Cooper. "Do you really believe that? That's it not our real anniversary?"

Cooper sat up straighter and looked down at her. "No, of course not. That's not what I meant. I just meant time is not a fixed scale for us; it's hard, in a way, to pinpoint our exact anniversary. Is the a year from when we met? Or got married? And a year on the calendar hanging on the side of our refrigerator or when we spend 365 days in each other's presence?" He shrugged. "But I do know it's felt special for a very long time, longer than a year in some ways. I know we haven't been together for a long time, but a lot of things I never thought possible now seem possible. And not just time travel." She smiled at him, and his faced brightened and become less serious. "And now, little lady, I offer you my anniversary-whenever-that-may-be-slash-happy-GED-passing-slash-welcome-to-college present."

Quickly sitting up, Amelia said, "What do you mean? I thought this trip was our gift to each other."

"Watch." Her husband took off his straw boater hat, then his tie, and he started to unbutton his shirt. Amelia knew her brow was wrinkling in confusion, but she didn't know what to ask. "Look!" he said, opening his shirt to reveal a navy and white shirt underneath. "I bought a bathing suit. I know you're wearing one under your dress. We can wade out into the ocean together. I've been bracing myself for it for weeks."

Amelia threw her head back with a laugh. Cooper put out his hand. "Fancy a dip, my dear?"

* * *

The days of reckless abandonment continued. Cooper repeatedly surprised Amelia by agreeing to most of her suggestions with much less grumbling than she expected, even when she said she'd arranged to rent a car and drive out to Long Island and try golf.

"Golf?" he'd stammered over breakfast.

"Yes, although golf originated in Scotland, apparently it really hit its stride in terms of popularity in America in the 1920s. You know, like Jordan was a golfer in  _The Great Gatsby_."

"I should never have encouraged you to read F. Scott Fitzgerald." Cooper shook his head. "Besides, we can't. I don't drive."

"Oh, I learned how," Amelia said as she calmly took a bite of her toast. "Penelope taught me. You just have to keep the pedals straight."

Perhaps stunned, he'd sat in the passenger seat and went out with her. Except golf turned out to be just as boring and as tedious as Cooper said it would be, and they quit after five holes. At least the car, something bright and shiny and fast, was a delight to drive even when Cooper clutched the dashboard at every turn and yelled, "Good grief, woman!"

They went to lunch in the Rose Room at the Algonquin, getting a table right next to the famed round one, listening to the great wits of the day trade barbs. There was a night out for dinner at the Oyster Bar and then going to the Ziegfeld Follies. They ate popcorn at the new Roxy Theatre movie palace while watching  _The Jazz Singer_. She used the camera she'd bought to photograph everything, delighted that she'd actually have tangible memories to show their friends of this adventure.

Then, eating at an automat one evening, Amelia said suddenly, "Shall we go to the speakeasy tomorrow night?"

Cooper put his fork down with a clang. "Amelia, we discussed this before we came. It's illegal."

"So is counterfeiting -"

"Shhhhh!"

"- and time travel probably would be if someone realized we were doing it. Oh, and identity theft."

"Amelia!" he hissed.

"I'm just saying that we have history on our side," she leaned closer to whisper. "You know I want to go. It's the quintessential twenties experience. It's why I researched all those police records, so we could go to one that wasn't raided by the police, one that was never tied to wood alcohol."

Shaking his head, Cooper said, "The records are spotty at best and you know it."

"Well," Amelia jutted her chin out, "I'm going. I want to go dancing, and I feel my Roaring Twenties experience won't be complete if I don't. So I'm going. With or without you."

She watched her husband clench his jaw. It was a dirty trick, and she knew it. But she wanted to go, she had meticulously read all the microfiche that had been digitized, she had studied the period map of Manhattan, cross referencing it with all with reports of known passwords. What she said was true, history was on their side. They knew the future and they could use it to their advantage.

"I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?" he finally said.

Amelia smiled. "No."

"Okay, fine, I'll go but only to protect you. I'm not drinking anything and you shouldn't either. You're not twenty-one yet."

"Well, here we're all on equal footing in regards to the approved drinking age, aren't we?"

He grunted in an agreement he didn't want to give.

By the next evening, though, Cooper had been almost jubilant, spouting off all his silly phrases. Amelia was too pleased to question the change. "History is on our side," he even repeated to her. The only serious moment had come when they were dressing, before he reminded her of his plans for the next day. He went to the safe in their suite and came back with the fob to the time machine and held it out to her.

"Why are you giving me that?" Amelia asked. "I thought we agreed it was secure in the safe here."

"I want you to wear it as an extra precaution."

"We don't need it."

"Yes, we do. What we are about to do is more dangerous than counterfeiting because the technologies do not exist yet to make or detect that our money isn't real. And time travel is only fantasy now, just as it is to everyone but our closest associates in the future. Those aren't real risks, but going to a speakeasy is."

"Even you just said history is on our side. We won't get caught because this speakeasy was never reported as being raided," Amelia pointed out again. "I was very thorough in my research."

Cooper shook his head. "I'm not saying you weren't. It's not your research abilities I'm doubting. Again, the records available to you weren't complete. But even if they were, please pretend it's just another piece of that jewelry you like so much. Please. If I'm going to a speakeasy, you're wearing this key."

It seemed the least she could do, seeing as how she'd manipulated him into going out with her this evening in the first place. Cooper was right, it would look just like a piece of jewelry. Rajeev had really outdone himself this time. Their friend made all the casings for the time machine keys, making each one look like period appropriate jewelry to whenever they were going. Amelia took the small glittering object and looked down at its Art Deco design, silver and fake emeralds winking back up her her. It really was stunning.

"Fine." She reached up to pin it to her velvet headband, making sure it was as secure as possible. "How does it look?"

"Like the bee's knees, sugar!" Cooper crooned and she couldn't help but laugh at him.

At the counter of the seedy hardware store, she grabbed Cooper's hand tightly as she uttered the password she had memorized, holding her breath until the clerk smiled and open the door behind him. "Right this way, folks."

Down the flight of stairs was a whole different world than the front above. Everything was just as vibrant as she imagined, the curtains around the stage fiery red, the little tables lit by the golden glow of a small lamps, the air filled with the jittery tunes of something light and bouncy. "Ohhhh," she breathed out.

They procured a table and two goblets of champagne arrived even before they'd asked for them. Cooper asked for some water also - "just plain H2O, please" - and, even if their waiter gave him a funny look, he did manage to bring back the unadulterated liquid. Amelia drank Cooper's champagne for him, ignoring his disapproving look beyond the rim of the glass.

She felt radiant and it wasn't entirely to do with the alcohol. Everything was going so well. She loved the little black beaded dress she was wearing, though she knew she didn't have the narrow hips it required. Her hair was the best it had been here, as she paid to have it coiffed at a salon instead of struggling herself with all the pins that were required to simulate one of the shorter hairstyles that were popular at this time. Even her lipstick was an especially fetching shade of red. This was everything she had wanted for their trip, a time to let loose and try new things. It was all exactly as she'd hoped, and it was all with the one she loved.

Just as she was thinking these pleasant thoughts, Cooper leaned over the table and took her hand. "Dance with me."

Laughing, she stood with her man, walking proudly as she noticed two of the flappers at other tables turn to watch her lanky and handsome husband lead her to the dance floor. She felt like that champagne, bubbly and alive.

They had so much fun, dancing the Charleston and the Fox Trot and giving the Lindy Hop a try. It was nothing like the barn dances on the prairie or the practice dances in their living room. It was delightful, laughing and dancing. And her husband was an excellent dancer, even if he gave her a stern look as she picked up another glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray and downed in one giant gulp.

"You'll regret that in the morning," he said.

"I'll regret nothing."

Softening, leaning in closer as a new slow song started, she told him over the blare of the music how much fun she'd had, how sad she was that their anniversary outing would soon be ending, how it truly had been their best travel experience with so many new things to see and do and explore, all above the safety net of their research and hindsight. All of their plans had been perfect.

Suddenly, mid-sentence, over the din of the music and the laughter and the tinkling of glasses came a different commotion: gunshots, screaming, running. "Everybody freeze! Put your hands up! This is a raid!"

Sometimes even hindsight fails.

* * *

_**I know some of you were hoping for a story about Amelia and Cooper meeting H.G. Wells. And it still might happen. But the great thing about time traveling stories is that I can tell them any order I want, as time is, literally, what I make of it.** _

_**Thank you in advance for your reviews!** _


	2. Chapter 2

She didn't remember freezing, but that's exactly what she did. Cooper had, too. Her breath was coming hard and fast as she panted into his chest. He squeezed her even tighter, and then Amelia heard his whisper in her ear, so close it made the delicate skin there hot, even over the melee around them, "Don't move. I'm going to turn on the cloaking device."

Afraid to even nod or acknowledge him, Amelia shut her eyes. All the dizzying joy she'd just felt coursing through her veins was replaced by pure, cold fear. No longer tipsy, she felt more sober than she ever had in her life. She felt Cooper's hands on her hair, touching her headband, pressing against her scalp and then the faint but unmistakable sensation of what could only be described as bugs crawling on her skin.

The cloaking device was activated.

Months ago, when they'd gone home to meet her parents, Cooper had invented a cloaking device to prevent the discovery of their time machine since it was necessary for them to leave it somewhere it couldn't be watched over. Thrilled with its success, he had tinkered and devised a way for the same small device to both activate the cloak on the time machine and to shield whatever object the fob itself was touching. Most importantly, that object could be a person.

It had always seemed more like an amusement to Amelia, and it had even turned into a bit of a party game on some Friday evenings when another friend would get to wear it while they tried ever more obvious and outrageous movements and activities. But from his serious face, Amelia knew it was not a mere game to Cooper. He took notes and videos, he muttered to himself about how to extend the range so that his feet weren't visible, for example. He planned and conducted numerous experiments with Amelia's assistance. Was there an optimal location on the body to wear it? Could more than one person use the device at the same time? What were the required parameters for making that a success? How fast could one move without being detected, without the objects behind him or her shimmering from the deflected light? Could one stretch out their arms? Jump? Clearly, screaming or even talking was not advisable but what about the barest of whispers?

Slowly, Cooper's arm lowered and she felt his palm on her back once more. She couldn't even see his face as they were still holding each other so close in the same position they had been when they were dancing. Instead, her face was pressed against his chest.

"There's a door behind you that others have run through," he whispered. Again, she more felt it than heard it. She knew it was not a single decibel over what Cooper had determined he could utter and remain unheard. "We can't let go. We have to move slowly," he reminded her, although she had not forgotten the results of all those experiments. She knew just how close they had to remain, how if she let go of him at all, he'd be seen. However, it felt good to hear the confidence in his voice.

"Just like dancing," he continued. "The tango. Okay?"

"Just like dancing," she mouthed back into his suit jacket.

"On three, I'll lead with right. One . . . Two . . . Three."

Amelia felt Cooper right's leg slide forward and she allowed her left leg to slide back with it. Then, gently, he helped her shift her weight to it. "Left," he whispered.

Gripping him tightly, burying her forehead even further into him, Amelia followed his slow and steady lead backwards, trying to imagine a tango song in her head instead of the cacophony of noises that still surrounded them, although now it was people moaning and crunching glass and the shouting of orders and the  _pop-sizzle_ of old-fashioned camera flashbulbs. She was dancing blind; even if she opened her eyes, she only saw the black and white view of Cooper's strong chest. This was just like her love had been for him all along, just like the first experience that led her to step into the time machine next to him: faith and trust in things unseen.

After several steps back, Cooper's nails dug into her side as he froze again. He didn't even risk whispering, but Amelia heard the approaching steps anyway. She felt what could only be described as a shift in the force field. Someone had come very close indeed.

"Charlie, whatcha doin'? You need to photograph the bar," she heard a voice call.

Then, so close it would have frightened her if there was room for any more fear in her, a reply, "I thought I saw something. Like those waves on pavement in the summer. And it feels funny over here."

Amelia felt her beaded handbag still swaying from the crook of her elbow, and she felt betrayed by such a small thing with the power to expose them.

"Feels funny?" the voice far away yelled.

"Yeah." Charlie's voice was close and very deep. "I can't describe it. Like there are ghosts here or somethin'."

"You read too many of those stupid paperbacks. Get over here and do your job or the chief will have both our hides."

Deep-voiced and curious Charlie moved away. Amelia felt Cooper's long exhale against her ear. "Right. But half-time." Their tango resumed but followed a slower beat.

Right slide, a pause for her heart to beat, left slide, another beat, repeat. Breathe in, breathe out. But not too much. Hold Cooper close, so close she felt sweat dripping down her chest between her breasts and her knuckles hurt from clenching the fabric of his suit. Never let him go. If you let him go, he's no longer your secret.

"There's a broken glass at your seven o'clock. Cha-cha one step to your right on three. One . . . Two . . . Three."

Together, they took the little rocking step and froze again, both of them waiting, she thought, for their movement to be noticed again. But no one said anything else. Finally, she felt Cooper whisper, "You said you wanted to go dancing. Tango on three."

Breathe in, breathe out. Hide Cooper away. You are his shield.

"The door opens in," Cooper said on pause. "It's cracked open, so I think we can just dance through it."

A minuscule nod. Just dance through it. Breathe in, breathe out. Hold Cooper close. Amelia jumped slightly and squeaked when the door knob struck her rear end. "Shhh," Cooper whispered. Never let him go, never let him show.

"Okay, we're in." Slowly, Cooper backed away slightly and she was able to look at him. Because they were both still in the force field, she could see him but he was light and blurred around the edges, just as she knew she was to him. She heard and felt his foot kick at the door, swinging it shut behind him.

Amelia held her breath as Cooper stretched his arm out to finish latching the door and to turn the lock, his limb starting to darken as it reached the very edge of the forcefield. What would have happened if the door wasn't shut and his arm had been seen? He was so tall, for that matter, what if his feet had been seen with each step he took back? Even with his precise moments, the lock still made a clicking sound as it engaged and they both jumped. Afraid to let go, they stood, huddled and barely breathing, straining their ears to listen for footsteps approaching the door, for curious Charlie to come looking for his ghosts. But no one came.

"I think we're clear," Cooper whispered.

Letting out a long exhale, Amelia nodded and stepped away from him. As she reached up to turn off the cloaking device, she realized for the first time, as Cooper returned to his full form, that his skin was glistened with sweat and the front of his shirt looked damp from where they had gripped so tightly. She looked around the space that appeared to be a storage room with wooden crates and boxes stacked, some of the open lids revealing bottles of alcohol. It was dusty and dim, but she knew without asking that it would be too risky to turn on the bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. They would have to make do with the pale angled light from the streetlamp that was coming in the small, half-window near the ceiling.

"The window," Amelia whispered. "Look, it's open. And there are boxes right there. That must be how everyone else escaped." Cooper nodded and she took a few quick steps across the space, putting a foot up to climb out.

"Wait!" Cooper whispered yelled. "Do you have a compact in your purse?"

Pausing, Amelia reached into her little beaded bag, and pulled out the small make-up mirror. She watched as Cooper opened it, came to stand on the box next to her, and stuck it out the bottom of the window, first facing one direction and then the other.

He sighed deeply as he pulled it back. "There's a policeman at the end of the alley."

"We'll go the other way. We have the cloaking device."

Shaking his head, Cooper frowned. "There is no way we'll both fit through this window together. And I think it will be impossible to be silent."

Amelia bit her lip and looked around the storage room. They couldn't stay here. Before long, someone would come and break down the door and try to find all the illegal alcohol. It was actually surprising that no one had come yet. Time was of the essence, she knew.

"Here," she handed Cooper her purse as she reached up and ran her hand through her hair, messing it.

"What are you doing?"

"I'll go out, distract the policeman, hopefully draw him away from the alley, and then you can escape." She reached over to run her fingers through some dirt and she smeared it on her arm.

"Amelia! No! You'll be arrested! You're coming out of a speakeasy that was just raided and - Why are you putting dirt on yourself?"

"To look like a damsel in distress." She reached down, gritted her teeth and ripped the bottom of her dress, sending a few tiny beads scattering.

"A - a what?" Cooper's eyes were round and his mouth was open in disbelief. "This is crazy! We'll find a way to leave together."

"There isn't a way to leave together, and you just said yourself we both can't fit through that window." She said firmly, "The best plan is distract the policeman and get him away from this alley so that you can escape."

"But what if you can't? What if more police show up? What if it takes too long and someone comes through that door? It will all be too suspicious, you pretending goodness knows what with me hiding down here!"

She put her hand out to touch his cheek. "Cooper, I can do this. I'm acting all the time, remember? Only with you can I truly be myself. This is just one more person to fool. It's okay, we'll regroup in the hotel room. Oh, I'll need my key."

"This is absurd! And dangerous!"

When he didn't hand over her room key, Amelia took her bag back from him and dug it out of her purse. Glancing down at her pocketless dress, she shrugged and stuffed it down her bra. A pause and then she put a subway token in the opposite side. She held her bag back out to him. "There's some more subway tokens in there you might need. Everything else you can throw away."

"Amelia!" He took her purse, but it seemed like his arm was on auto-pilot as his face didn't change. "I really don't think we should separate!"

Ignoring him, she reached up to unhook the time machine key from her headband and held it out to him. "Just in case I can't get him completely away from the alley. It will at least help."

Her husband stared at her a moment, his mouth still slightly open, and then he licked his lips. "I'm not going to talk you out of this, am I?"

"No. We don't have time to argue." She smiled to try and reassure him, to belie that her own heart was pounding in fear. "Think of it as an adventure. Tell yourself it's just another one of my stories that no one will ever believe."

He put his hand over her extended one, wrapping her palm around the key. "No, you take it. It's the only one we've got. Wear it and move away from the policemen. It's a long alley and it's clear in that direction. You know how to move correctly, he won't see you. There's bound to be a cross alley. Take the first one you find and run. Just run away, Amelia, the other way."

"No. I'm not running away until I know you can get out, too."

"Amelia, Amelia, my love." He reached for her and pulled her forehead against his. "Promise me you won't try your plan unless you get caught. Promise me you'll run. Promise me."

The anguish in his voice tore through her. He really didn't think she could do this, that they could do it. "I promise," she whispered.

"And promise me that when you get back to the room, you'll open the safe and read the document I put in there earlier."

She snapped her head sharply away from him. "What?"

"I don't have time to explain. I wrote while you were getting your hair done. It's important, Amelia - vital! It could be essential to your safety."

"Cooper, you're worry -"

"Please, please," he whispered, squeezing her hand harder around the time machine key. "Go, wear this, be safe, and read it."

A firm nod. He let go of her hand and they didn't speak as he helped her reattach the key broach to her headband and turned it on for her. Then he leaned closer, putting his hand on her shoulder which made him shimmer and lighten, and he kissed her softly. "Amelia. I love you. Remember that you are the bravest person I know." He pulled away completely, his form becoming firm now that he'd lost all contact with the force field. "Go."

It was not as tight of a squeeze through the window as she feared, which was good because Cooper couldn't see her to help push her up. She ground her teeth to keep from grunting. No sooner had she landed flat on the pavement of the alley, her limbs spread out, than the policeman stopped whistling and turned around. She held her breath as he turned the weak beam of his flashlight down the alley.

"Rats," she heard him mutter as he switched off the light and turned back around.

Closing her eyes and breathing out, Amelia slowly stood, watching for any rodents. She looked back toward the open window, Cooper's shadow barely visible. She smiled. It was a habit, a reflex, and then she let it fall into a frown, realizing he couldn't see her. Did he know, though, that she was standing?

Carefully, wincing with each slight thud that her high heels made on the asphalt, she walked down the alley, away from the policeman, until she found what Cooper predicted she would find: another alley crossing. For a brief second, it crossed her mind that maybe she should turn and run down this alley, just as Cooper ordered her to do. No. If she did that, the policemen would still be waiting for him. Cooper without a cloaking device. She cursed silently.

Never let him go, never let him show. Hide Cooper away. You are his shield.

Ducking around the dark corner, she strained her eyes to see if she was alone. Thinking she was, she reached up and turned off the cloaking device. Mouthing a silent apology, she slid off her thin silver wedding ring and put it on the opposite hand. She squeezed her eyes shut and slammed her foot into the brick wall, both to scuff her shoe and to bring tears to her eyes. Good.

She turned back out into the main alley, looked at the back of the policeman in the distance, felt the first tear run down her cheek, and she ran, yelling, "Help me! Help me!"

In her panic - not entirely or even mostly artificial - she could barely see the policeman turn around and shine the flashlight in her direction.

"Officer, officer! Oh, thank God!"

"You there!" he called. "Where did you come from?"

"Oh, officer, I'm so lost and frightened! A man tired to accost me on the street and he wanted to violate my person and I threw my purse in his face and I ran and he chased me down a dark alley and now I'm so lost and frightened and you've got to help me!" She told the story as she continued to run, tears running down her face, her heart hammering her chest.

"Officer, you've got to help me!" she sobbed, throwing herself at the man's dark blue uniform. "I'm just here visiting from Kansas and I've never seen a city so big and so scary before!"

There was pause, and then Amelia felt his big, beefy hand pat her back. "There, there, darlin'. A pretty little thing like you shouldn't be out here all alone in the big city."

Amelia allowed herself a small smile into his uniform. But she wailed, "I should have never left Kansas!"

"There, there. You're safe now." The policeman pushed her away, and Amelia quickly rearranged her face into one of terror and relief mixed together. It wasn't difficult as that was exactly how she felt for a completely different reason. He left his arm and led her toward the busy avenue in front of the speakeasy. "Do you think you have enough strength to tell me what this man looked like?"

"Oh! He was -" Amelia scrambled for the words, even as she kept moving one foot in front of the other, further away from the basement window. "He was so - fat! Yes, very fat. And short. And he had blond hair. I can't be sure but I think he's eyes were brown. Or maybe black. They were so dark and scary!" She forced another sob out prove her point. And to stop herself from saying too much.

"A short, fat man with blond hair?" the policeman asked, as they finally turned the corner away form the alley.

"Yes! And a mustache!" she added.

In other words, nothing at all like the man she hoped would shortly be emerging from the very same alley.

* * *

"If you change your mind about filing that report, please come down to the station. Ask for me, Officer O'Reilly. It would be my pleasure to assist you further, miss."

Amelia nodded in front of her hotel room door. "I'll do that. Thank you so kindly for all your help." Then she added firmly. "I really should go in. My sister was feeling quite poorly and will be wondering what took me so long to buy some cough syrup." She clutched the brown paper sack around the useless elixir that Officer O'Reilly had insisted that he stop and purchase for her on the way home.

Her story had been thus: She and her elder sister were visiting New York City for the first time, having won the trip from  _Collier's_  magazine. However, her sister had fallen ill just that evening with a horrible chest cold and Amelia had ventured out alone to locate an open pharmacy in order to procure some cough syrup when she had been set upon. Now, back at her door, calmer in her certainty that Cooper surely must be on the other side, given how long it was taking her to extricate herself from Officer O'Reilly's concern for her wellbeing, she wondered why he had believed such a thin and hastily concocted tale in the first place.

"Good night, miss." He doffed his hat to her and turned to walk down the hallway. Just as Amelia was about to unlock the door, he turned sharply. "I just realized I never got your name."

"Oh, it's Am - Amy. Amy -" she gripped the bottle of Dr. Fowler's Miracle Cure harder "- Fowler." No, she shouldn't have said that. He might notice the connection to the random bottle Amelia had selected in a rush from the shelf at the pharmacy.

"Amy? That's unusual."

She breathed. "It's very common in Kansas. We like simple names. My sister's name is - is Penny."

"Well then, good night, Miss Fowler. And promise me you won't venture out alone again."

"I promise. I'll never travel alone again. Good night."

At last he was gone, and Amelia rushed into the room, slamming the door behind her. "Cooper!" she yelled.

But the room was still dark and quiet except for one lamp they'd keep on before they left this evening. Just a few hours, but it seemed like ages ago. "Cooper?" Setting the bottle of drugs on the nearest table, Amelia ran through the suite, turning on lights as she went, calling her husband's name in ever more hysterical tones.

Where was he? He should have been there. The speakeasy was only a couple of stops on the subway line from their hotel. Her plan, while successful, had been unduly protracted by just happening to run into the most chivalrous police officer on the New York City force, she was certain.

Officer O'Reilly had insisted that she drink a cup of bitter black coffee from the Thermos in the police car "to steady your nerves," he looked at her with kind and concerned eyes as he asked her numerous questions about why such "a young thing as you" would be out so late at night. Amelia supposed she should be grateful that he seemed unaware of the latest fashions, because her beaded and fringed black gown was certainly made for dancing and carousing, not for a quick run to a pharmacy for an ill non-existent sister. He insisted on driving her back to the hotel but only after a stop at an all-night pharmacy that he knew "was safe, not one of these fly-by-night bootleggers selling wood alcohol as medicine." She hadn't even been able to shake him at the front door of the hotel because he's accompanied her inside "should you need assistance in obtaining a replacement room key." Terrified that the desk clerk would tell him who she was or mention Cooper, Amelia had been forced to admit her key was located on her person in a rather delicate location. "My sister always insisted," she explained with a very real blush, causing the officer to blush himself and look away. Earlier, riding up the elevator, she tried to think only grateful and kind thoughts for the policemen, who really was a credit to the force even if his concern was driving her mad with impatience.

But now, her chest getting tighter by moment, Officer O'Reilly was forgotten. Where was Cooper? Standing by their bed, Amelia's thought whirled: What if someone had come the basement storage room while she was running down the alley, before he could escape? What if he was seen escaping? Or walking down the alley? What if he had been arrested? What if she had to go to the police station tomorrow and find him? The elaborate and completely false tale she'd told Officer O'Reilly would only make everything worse for both of them. What if something else altogether had happened to him? There were thugs with guns in the speakeasy, she'd seen them. What if one of the bootleggers came back to the speakeasy? What if Cooper was accosted on the street because of his fancy night clothes? After all, the policeman had not seemed surprised by Amelia's tale of crime. What if - ?

She sat down on the bed with a hard thump. He had another plan. That had to be it. Everything had seemed so final when he said good-bye to her in that basement, the way he'd kissed her and told her he loved her. He had another plan and it was dangerous. But what could it be? And why would he lie to her? And why was he so cryptic about her survival?

Moving swiftly, Amelia walked toward the closet and looked at the big black safe. They'd marveled over when they arrived, the very need for one so large. "I guess it's for all the bootleggers that rent this suite," Cooper had shrugged. Although it had been advantageous for counterfeiters, too, as they decided to use it for their own illegal funds. Turning the dial, Amelia spun the heavy door and saw the folded sheet of paper sitting on top of their stacks of cash.

Reaching in, her breath coming shallow, she unfolded it and read.

"Directions for programming the machine to return home, should you have to leave without me."

A strangled cry emerged from Amelia's throat as she put a hand over mouth and skimmed the numbers directions beneath it. And, then, worst of all, at the very bottom: "My dearest Amelia, if fate forces you leave on your own, do not be afraid. You are the bravest person I know. Do not fear I have been lost to time. Because, as you are aware, our love exists in a plane where time is meaningless, beyond the fourth dimension. We will always be together there, among the stars."

* * *

**_Thank you in advance for your reviews!_ **


	3. Chapter 3

Amelia had never thought of herself as the type of woman that was prone to tears. At least until she met Cooper. She had cried over him in the barn when she realized he was leaving her, she had cried over him in the spare room when she thought she'd have to leave him, and she'd cried to defend him from her father. Perhaps because there had been so little worth crying about before she met and fell in love with him.

She would have welcomed tears, standing in the hotel room, out of time, holding Cooper's instructions. But all she felt was shock and an icy fear. Tangoing across the dance floor to save her life, she had thought she was terrified. She was wrong; yes, there had been uncertainly but mostly determination. All her fear was magnified without Cooper. She had so many questions and no one to ask them to. Why had Cooper written this now? What did he know that she didn't? Is that why he had fought so hard to keep her from going to the speakeasy? Had he frowned upon her drinking because he wanted her to have a clear head? And, most importantly, is that why he's been so insistent she wear the cloaking device? And leave the basement with it but without him?

Her knees collapsed, causing her to crumble to the floor. This couldn't be happening. None of it. Suddenly, nothing felt real. Not her beautiful dress, not the paper in her hands, not the even the memories of sitting in the time machine. For a moment, she thought she was going to vomit but she was too weak to move.

Amelia had failed him. Cooper, the only man she had ever loved. She had forced him to do something he hadn't wanted to do, and now she was paying the price. She had been too proud and sure of all her research, she had failed to heed the warnings that even Cooper himself had given her. She had selfishly agreed to leave the basement first, to wear the cloaking device.

"No." It sounded like a hiccup. "No." Longest, deeper, more primal. A wail. "Noooo!" She doubled over, her face hitting the plush carpet and, at last, the fourth "No!" came out as a sob. Time, never a concrete concept in Amelia's life, felt especially fluid and she lost all track of it as she lay there keening.

"Why the tears? I thought you wanted an adventure, and we certainly got one."

Her head snapped up and she saw Cooper standing in the doorway, his key still in his hand. "Cooper!"

"Oh, Amelia!" He came swiftly to her side, ducking down on his knees, pulling her upright to lean against his chest, his strong arms about her. "I did not realize you were so upset. I shouldn't have been flippant. Is this a post adrenal stress effect? Symptoms can include uncontrollable crying and exhaustion. But you seemed so calm in the speakeasy and then out in the alley, you seemed to have the situation firmly in control."

Barely able to speak between her sobs, Amelia pressed the time machine instructions into Cooper's chest. "I - thought - you - weren't - coming - back."

He kissed the top of her head. "Do you honestly think I'd plan to abandon you like that? I would do everything in my power, I'd fight with everything I have to get back to you. I just wanted you to know they were there in case you needed them. This emotional response is completely unexpected."

Hearing him say it, Amelia realized that she'd been foolish for the second time in one night. First, by making him go to the speakeasy and then by believing that he had planned to leave her or that he knew something she didn't. Hearing him say it aloud made her understand how stupid it was to have believed that for even a second. She had let all that lying to the police and her over-active imagination run away with her.

"It was just so awful after I left you and I thought you would be here when I got back," she said, pulling back to wipe her tears off her face.

"I was afraid to take the closest subway because the entrance was swarming with policemen. I thought my evening dress would give me away. I walked for a long time, passing a couple of other entrances before I thought it was safe enough to go down and then I had to change trains twice." He brushed his hand along her hair. "I'm sorry. If I had known how you'd react, that I'd find you here sobbing like this, I would have risked the closest subway to get back. You were just so strong and calm and in control. I was so proud of you." He licked his lips and then whispered, "Have your menses started?"

"No! What a thing to say!" Amy yelled, weakly slapping his chest. "I was terrified!" Cooper put his hands up in surrender. She bit off another angry word and wrinkled her brow. As much as it pained her to admit it, Cooper had a valid point. Was all this emotional upheaval and irrational belief that Cooper would strand her alone in time in some way related to her cycle? She hadn't had birth control for a several days now, her period should have started without it. And yet it hadn't yet. But then she'd always been so irregular. Well, it didn't matter now. Cooper was here and they were safe. "It has nothing to do with that and I can't believe you'd resort to that! I was genuinely terrified and the whole thing was awful and I thought I'd never get away and then you weren't here and I thought you left me this note for a reason and -"

"I'm sorry. I'm not good at all this yucky, squishy uterus stuff," he said, interrupting her. He looked so confused and lost, Amelia couldn't help but forgive him. "Amelia, tell me what happened. What do you mean you thought you'd never get away? Did they question you or hold you? Arrest you? You seemed so confident, not like you were frightened at all. You were incredibly convincing, I was in awe. The policeman seemed to believe everything you said. If I hadn't known better, I would have believed you, too. I wanted to find this fat, blond, mustached monster and punch him myself, and I knew he was a lie."

Amelia smiled in spite of her fear and frustration and confusion and annoyance. 'So many emotions tonight!' she thought. Time travel was not for the faint-hearted and weak. "I think maybe it was  _too_  convincing." Then she told him the story about Officer O'Reilly and the sick sister and the cough medicine.

Cooper smiled at the end. "Amy Fowler? Not bad. It could be your nom de plume. But it needs something else, I think . . ." He shrugged before his face turned serious. He put his hands up, a palm on each of her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Amelia. You're so brave and strong and you were so brilliant in the alley. I expected you to be waiting up, pacing, angry at me for taking so long to get back."

"I  _am_  angry that you took so long to get back," Amelia said, but without any real force behind it.

"And  _I'm_  angry with you for breaking your promise to me. You were supposed to run." His voice was firm, but his hand moved softly on her cheek.

"I promise I'll never disobey you again," Amelia said softly, chastised.

"Disobey?" He raised an eyebrow. "What is this, 1886? Besides, you and I both know that's only setting you up for failure."

She was finally able to chuckle as Cooper stood and put a hand out. "Come on, it's late. Let's get you to bed."

Once settled in, Amelia assumed she'd drop right off to sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up with her. But she found sleep an elusive thing as she tossed and turned.

"Hey, come here," Cooper said softly, taking her hand and pulling her closer to him in the dark. "Tell me a story . . ."

* * *

Looking in the bathroom mirror, Amelia frowned. Maybe it was too much. Coming back to the hotel, swinging her robin's egg blue Tiffany's bag, she loved it. She felt powerful and fashionable. It had been a lovely day, despite her residual disappointment that Cooper had gone to his appointment with Tesla without saying good-bye, even though she'd understood that he was trying to be kind, that he was allowing her to sleep in after such a late and frightening night. She knew that his meeting was early, he had told her that, hadn't he, just yesterday before they went to the speakeasy? And hadn't he said that it would probably be too early for her to get up, which was, she had to admit, just as good as telling her that he would gone when she woke up? Determined to prove her strength to him, that she was just as brave and as strong as he thought she was, she had followed his suggested itinerary to the letter - until of course she hadn't, thus the frown in the mirror.

Cooper was safe, still on the same time as her, and that's all that mattered. He was only gone this morning because he had a plan and Cooper was loath to deviate from any schedule, she reminded herself as she walked in the park. So she window shopped, bought the most exquisite pair of jet and diamond earrings and a pretty silver bangle for Bernice's birthday at Tiffany's (and a few classic items that they could sell at a great profit in the future), bought her first edition of Agatha Christie's newest mystery to add to her growing collection, and went back to the park to read it on one of the benches. The weather was sunny and crisp, the perfect autumn day.

Until a trio of young flappers walked by and she was plucked by a whim. All week, she'd struggled with pins, and only ended up feeling frumpy for it. Well, why not, she had reasoned, sitting in the salon? And it wasn't as though Cooper's suggestions were actual instructions, even if she had thought about them that way this morning. If last night had taught her anything it was that life could change suddenly, that risks had to be taken, that she was much better at being bold than being fearful.

Now, she heard the door to their suite open, and she rapidly replaced her cloche hat. But that only made her frown more at how much it emphasized the possible mistake instead of hiding.

"Amelia?" Cooper called.

"In the bathroom!" she yelled back. She took a deep breath and turned toward the door. She stooped with her hand on the gold knob and added in a rush, "But don't come in!"

"What's wrong?" She heard the anxiety in his voice, the sound of his steps approaching. "Are you sick?"

"No, I'm not ill."

"Oh, you're angry with me, aren't you? I knew I shouldn't have left this morning; it's why I cut our meeting short. It's just that you looked so peaceful sleeping. Amelia, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left today, even if that was the plan. I should have realized you'd still be experiencing stress about the events that occurred. Post-adrenal stress can last up to forty-eight hours. I should have at least left a note, I see that now. Please forgive -"

"No, it's not that." She bit her lip. Amelia was not upset with him about this morning, it had been his plan all along, and she understood his need for order, his desire to meet one of his heroes. Yes, she was confused and a little hurt when she realized he was gone, and there had been some bitter moments that she tasted the aftereffects of her fear - both the rational but focused fear from the speakeasy and the irrational and jumbled fear later in the hotel room - but as the whole escapade had been her fault to start with and because it had ended up well enough in the long run, she couldn't be angry with him. "I'm not angry with you. Really, I'm not. I knew you had an appointment." Another deep breath. "Cooper, I did something I don't think you'll like. I think I'm the one that needs forgiveness." She opened the door slowly.

Watching Cooper's face carefully, she reached up and took the cloche off, smoothing down her newly bobbed hair with her hand. His eyebrows went up in surprise and his mouth opened just enough she could see the edges of his ever-so-slightly crooked front teeth.

"You hate it," she said flatly.

"I - uh - well, I didn't expect it." Still his mouth did not close all the way.

"You hate it."

"Do you?" He licked his lips and then pursed them together with force. He looked rakishly handsome, with his bow tie hanging loose around his neck and his jacket slung over his shoulder.

"I don't know. It was a split second decision. And I loved the feeling afterwards, the lightness, the breeze on my neck, but now . . . I think maybe I overreacted, thinking I was proving something after last night didn't need to be proven." She shrugged and looked down at her T-strap spectator heels. "You love my braids."

"Amelia," Cooper said softly, throwing his jacket aside with one hand and reaching for her cheek with the other, "I love you for far more than your braids. It's your hair and if you want it like this, well, who am I to stop you?"

"I'm glad you realize that." Amelia lifted her chin.

Cooper chuckled and wrapped his arms about her waist. "Besides, now I can see your neck. And the bangs emphasize your beautiful eyes."

Amelia was about to point out he could see her neck in the braids, too, but her throat was too busy being kissed. "Mmmmmm," she purred instead.

The kisses continued around the side, and he moved the angled front of her hair back to kiss beneath her ears. "Nice earrings," he mumbled. "Are they new?"

A giggle barely escaped her lips before he whirled her around to kiss the back of her neck, just below her freshly sharp hairline. Then his hands were lifting up her argyle sweater.

"Cooper, stop," she said. "You know we can't."

He growled but stopped, his hands on her waist. Since the mysterious birth control malfunction, they'd been celibate all week. But at this moment, especially, she really wanted him. She wanted that physical reminder that he was still here, that he would always be here, whenever here might be.

"We can do other things," he purred into her neck again. "Please. You've been wearing the most fabulous costumes all week."

"Yes." Before she could continue, the sweater was over her head, and Cooper was unhooking the flimsy period bra. She moaned when his hands made contact with her breasts, her long strand of fake pearls thumping again his knuckles. Oh, how she wanted this. "Other things. Let me take off my pearls."

"Leave them on." Cooper kissed into the back of her neck again, and then his lips started to trail their way down her exposed spine. He paused to tug at the waistband on her pleated skirt, and she obliged him by reaching down to unbutton it as he returned to fondling her breasts.

She moaned again, letting the skirt fall. He pulled down her colette-style underpants, and she kicked them out of the way with her skirt. "My garter."

"Leave it," he said as he knelt to kiss her naked bottom, just to the side of one of the frilly straps heading down to clip into her thigh-high stockings.

"But it's not historically accurate," Amelia explained with a gasp as Cooper's tongue traced its way back up. "It's from Victoria's Secret. I just couldn't bear the thought of wearing another type of corset."

"Thank God," Cooper moaned, kissing her tailbone and spreading her legs with his hand, finding the center of her with his finger. "You can wear it anytime."

"Oh, Cooper . . . " Amelia grasped the edge of the door jam for support.

Then his broad shoulders were between his legs as he twisted beneath her. He glanced up at her, his blue eyes ablaze beneath her dangling pearls and breasts, the front of her new bob falling forward.

"You are so sexy," he murmured, trapping her hips with his hands and burying his face in the apex of her thighs.

Several delightful minutes later, Amelia screamed, "Oh, Cooper!" and pounded the door frame as she climaxed. Then Cooper's strong arms helped to lower her to the floor next to him. He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her forehead. Amelia looked up at him as she reached over to unhook his belt. Leaning back again the wall, lifting his bottom so she could pull down his pants, Cooper groaned softly as she first released and then stroked him. Amelia rotated on her knees and bent over, making sure she was looking him straight in the eyes when she took him in, her shiny new hair bobbing up and down at the side of her head as she pleasured him.

"Amelia," he said horsely, his breath shallow, "come up here. I want to make love to you."

Lifting her head, letting him go, Amelia said, "We can't."

"Please? Your eyes! That hair! I can't take it!"

Amelia shook her head weakly. "I want to but . . . we can't."

"Just once," Cooper begged. "Nothing will happen."

"That's not the way it works, and you know it," Amy said.

"Get up here and prove to me that I'm wrong," Cooper said. Then his face changed. "Please, Amelia, I thought I'd lose you last night, I have never been so frightened as when we had to get out of that speakeasy, and I was terrified watching you with that policeman. I only pretended I wasn't afraid when I got back because you were so upset. Please, I love you and I never want to be separated from you again."

Biting her lip, Amelia wavered. Why, oh, why, did she want him so badly? She, too, needed this physical reminder that they were as close as they could possibly be, that they were locked together no matter what obstacles history put in their path. She shuffled forward to raise herself over him, but he grabbed her and rolled her, running his hands along the tops of her stocking and up to her lace garter, squeezing her bottom beneath the elastic straps. Her heels and pearls were still on. "Yes?" he whispered into her ear.

"Yes," she said back and then he was in her. She groaned deeply in satisfaction. Oh, how she'd missed this.

Breathe in, breath out. Hold him close, never let him go.

"You won't regret it, I promise," he said, kissing her softly, raising her leg up higher, slipping deeper into her, setting a pace. Just like dancing.

"I'll regret nothing."

* * *

_**What's that, you say? An M-rated Amelia story? Things have changed, it seems ;-)** _

_**As always, thank you in advance for your reviews!** _


	4. Chapter 4

Serendipity. Not an accident. It was the word Amelia and Cooper preferred to use to explain their meeting, when he crash landed on her farm. And it was the word Amelia had often found herself saying these past nine months, a forceful self-remainder that the best things in her life were unexpected and unplanned. Sometimes she said it through the damp eyes or clenched teeth of disappointment and anger, like when she had to give up her riding lessons or worried about how she would finish college after all or when Cooper had left her to time travel alone.

Now, sitting in the hospital bed, holding her beautiful baby boy, she didn't have to force herself at all. Serendipity, not an accident. Cooper was right, she had no regrets. Their son was so perfect and already so loved. All of her fears, all of her memories of her mother's struggles with miscarriages and stillborns, had thankfully not come to fruition. Modern medicine had given her only joy at this moment.

She had cried, great ugly sobs, when her realization was confirmed by that horrid blue plus sign. Cooper's unreadable face only made it worse. She had ruined everything, she blubbered, they had a five-year plan and she ruined it, it was all her fault. Suddenly his strong arms were around her.

"Shhhhhh. You didn't ruin anything. Anything. If it's anybody's fault, it's mine. I begged." He'd pushed her back gently, crouching down to brush her bobbed hair out of her face and look directly into her eyes. "Listen. Remember what you said to me when we landed in Los Angeles? It will be be an adventure. With you. And that's all I ever want."

"Truly?"

"Truly." He took a deep breath, and she noticed that his face shifted into one of absolute joy. "Amelia, I really want this baby. Your baby. Our baby. It's all I can think about ever since you told me."

It had been enough, at that moment, and she had smiled weakly as he hugged her tightly there in the bathroom. But she couldn't put it out of her mind, all the memories of her mother, of the blood, of the screaming in pain, of the crying in despair, all those little graves on the hill behind the cabin. She tired to hide her tears in the middle of the night, but Cooper's arm found its way around her.

"Amelia?" he asked softly.

"There's something I've never told you. I'm worried - I don't think the baby will live," she managed to say.

She heard him take a deep breath behind her, although she couldn't be sure what the emotion behind it was. "Do you want to tell me about it now?"

Nodding, she allowed him to turn on the bedside lamp and sit up, holding her. In halting words, unsure of what she was even saying, she told Cooper about all the siblings she'd lost over the years. He didn't interrupt, and when it was over her only asked, "Do you have any idea what was wrong?"

She shook her head, surprised that he wasn't more surprised. "We'll figure this out together, Amelia, I promise. We have the powers of science and modern medicine on our side." And, yet another time, he knew exactly what would sooth her when he said, "Tell me a story."

The days felt hazy to Amelia. Christmas was coming, and all the decorations were hung. Last year, she had been amazed and delighted by the sheer quantity of them, laughing when Cooper turned on the twinkling lights. Last year everything had been perfect. This year she alternated between forgetting there was anything abnormal and suddenly remembering that there was a specter of tragedy lurking over them, something ticking away inside her. Cooper had put his arm around her one day and suggested that perhaps she should tell Penelope and Bernice after all, that maybe they could offer her support. Shaking her head, Amelia refused, saying again that she didn't want anyone to know yet. And how would those two beautiful blonde woman be able to help her, anyway?

One morning, coming out of the bathroom for the first time feeling a little nauseous, she was surprised that Cooper did not have breakfast ready yet. Did she look that bad? Did he know she was feeling ill and that the idea of food only made her stomach turn?

"Amelia, I have something to tell you. I'm taking you now to get some blood work done and we have an appointment with your gynecologist at four. I know their regular recommendation is to see you at about ten weeks, but I called and explained your concerns. If you're angry at me because you feel I've overstepped my bounds, I accept that; but I feel we need answers as soon as we can get them. I don't like seeing you this way. I know this wasn't planned, so maybe you're not excited yet, but I want to do everything I can to help you get there."

She wasn't angry. Instead, she felt a sense of relief. She nodded. After several tubes of blood were drawn, the day seemed to crawl by, despite Cooper's attempts at cheering her up, despite taking her Christmas shopping. Finally, she sat in her doctor's office, wearing a little paper gown and covered with a paper sheet. Cooper was firmly studying his shoes, having mumbled, "Why are there all these posters?"

There was a knock on the door and Dr. Price entered and smiled. "Hello, Amelia. First of all, let me congratulate you."

"Thank you," Cooper said quickly, and Amelia was grateful he'd spoken first as she wasn't really sure what to say. "I'm Dr. Cooper Shelton."

Brief introductory pleasantries were exchanged between them before Dr. Price sat down on her exam stool and looked back at Amelia. "I understand you have some concerns about your pregnancy, that you're fearful you won't be able to carry the child to term. I want to reassure you that when I did your exam last year, everything was perfectly healthy. I'll examine you again to be certain. That is not a guarantee, of course, but it's a good start along with the fact that you're young. I expect the blood work back at any moment. Before we do all that, why don't you tell me exactly what you're concerned about?"

Glancing at Cooper, Amelia started to explain all that she knew about her mother's struggles with pregnancy and childbirth. Two sentences in Cooper had come to stand next to her, holding her hand.

"I'm sorry to interrupt -" Dr. Price said, putting her hand up "- am I to understand your mother had no prenatal care?"

"It's a cult," Cooper said quickly. "One of those religions that don't believe in doctors or modern innovations like electricity. In Kansas."

"Oh. Kansas." Dr. Price nodded, as people always did when Kansas was used as the reason. Then she opened her laptop to study something. "I do see, now, that you had all your vaccinations in the past year. Am I to assume you had no medical care yourself as a child?"

"Only the very basics," Amelia answered, blushing and feeling ashamed that this lie was necessary to explain the situation, even though she found it offensive to her parents. It made them sound narrow-minded and uncaring, when, in reality, they would have done anything that was possible for her.

"So there were only two living children, you and your younger brother?"

"I had an older sister. I was a baby when she died from the measles. I think she was one," Amelia explained.

"I didn't know that," she heard Cooper murmur next to her.

"And there were, you think, two more infants after your brother and then none? How old was your mother then, do you know? Perhaps she was just past child-bearing years."

Cooper shifted restlessly next to her, but Amelia answered. "Probably 30 or 32."

"Interesting." Dr. Price did not do well at hiding her surprise. But before she could ask another question, there was a knock on the door and a staff member stuck her head in to say a few words. "Your blood work is back," Dr. Price announced.

Her heart thumping in her chest, Amelia waited for her doctor to pull it up on the computer and she watched her eyes reading. It only took a few seconds, really, but time seemed to have come to a complete stand still. Cooper gave her hand a little squeeze and she was too frightened to return the favor. She didn't know which frightened her most: the impending horror of losing a baby or letting Cooper down. In the past few weeks, he had been so attentive and concerned, and, even though she thought he was trying to mitigate the outward signs for her sake, he was obviously so thrilled by the hope of a child.

"Ah, I see," Dr. Price finally said and Amelia's heart completely stopped beating. So she had been right all along, there really was something wrong with her. Then Dr. Price looked up and gave her a small smile, and Amelia wrinkled her brow.

"It is good news?" Cooper blurted out.

"Normally, I would say it's annoying news, but given your fears I think that, yes, this is good news."

"What?" Amelia whispered, her throat parched.

"It's actually what I suspected. You're Rh-negative, Amelia. That's it. It's very easily treated with proper medical care," Dr. Price leaned forward and rested her hand on Amelia's knee. "It's going to okay. This won't prevent you from having a healthy baby."

"I don't understand," Amelia said, turning to look at Cooper. He was smiling.

"Rh factor is found on the red blood cells of most people, but not all," the doctor explained. "It doesn't harm you not to have it, which it why you've always been healthy. It's only a concern when your blood mixes with the blood of a person who does have the Rh factor, such as if you needed a blood transfusion or, in this case, pregnancy and childbirth. Since you're Rh negative, we will just assume the baby is Rh positive and treat you with injections to prevent your body from harming the baby."

"We'll look it up together we get home," Cooper said softly. "This is good, Amelia, it's easily managed."

"But . . . my mother . . . "

"I can only conjuncture, but my guess is your mother is Rh negative also and your father is Rh positive. In that situation, there are usually no complications in the first pregnancy -" Dr. Price put her hand up "- but we'll still treat you anyway - which is why your older sister was born healthy. Although there are usually no outward signs of a problem in the first pregnancy, that pregnancy is what causes the body to start producing the antibodies that are harmful to future Rh positive fetuses. But then you were Rh negative, so your mother's blood was compatible with yours and you were healthy as well. I'd assume your brother is Rh negative, too. However, as Rh factor is a dominant genetic trait, it seems that all your other . . . siblings were Rh positive and that is what led to the miscarriages and stillbirths. We call that hemolytic erythroblastosis fetalis." She frowned. "Unfortunately, it sounds like the condition was especially vicious for your mother, and each new pregnancy only makes it worse, we know that. Today, with detection during a prenatal ultrasound and proper medical care, even a fetus with this condition can be born and survive. But we don't even have to worry about that; we've got your blood work in plenty of time to prevent complications."

"You mean the baby will be healthy?" Amelia asked.

"We have every reason to think so." Dr. Price smiled and squeezed her knee again. "I recommend the full genetic work-up, of course, when we get to that stage, but although this sounds very frightening and is no doubt a speed bump, it's just that, Amelia, a small speed bump. We'll give you an injection at 28 weeks - and I recommend the optional booster at 34 weeks given your family history - and one more immediately after birth to prevent your body from forming antibodies against either this baby or any future children. We'll do the same if you choose to have any more children in the future."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Almost unable to believe that it could all be so simple, that this magical place called the future could detect and solve a problem that had caused an almost endless string of heartbreaks in the past, Amelia felt her face crumble. For herself, for her unborn child, for Cooper, but especially for her mother.

"Don't cry, it's good news," Cooper said softly, pulling her close to him.

Weeping into his neck, Amelia finally said aloud what she had been to frightened to utter all along, "I'm going to have a baby."

And she did. A perfect, healthy ten-fingered-and-ten-toed miracle. He was bald and red-faced and squishy looking with baby acne and a very loud cry, but he was theirs. She thought, holding him on the morning of only his second day, that this was yet another thing that Cooper had given her. Not just the obvious contribution, but the moment he put his hand out and helped her into his time machine he was giving her this miracle. If John hadn't died leaving her with the silver ring . . . if Cooper hadn't crash landed on her farm on the exact day he did . . . if she hadn't gone over that hill one more time that sad morning she thought he was already gone . . . if he hadn't asked her to come with him . . . if her birth control hadn't failed . . . if the speakeasy hadn't been raided . . . if she hadn't needed Cooper just as much as he needed her at that moment in the hotel room. . . It was serendipity that brought her Cooper, and it was serendipity that he would bring her to where she needed to be to experience the joys of motherhood, even that motherhood another result of unplanned serendipity.

There was a soft knock at the door and Amelia looked up to see Cooper's head peering around the corner. She broke into a smile. "You're back!"

"Just now." He crossed quickly to her side to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I missed you." He bent down further. "And you, my little physicist." He reached into his jacket pocket and set an envelope on the bed beside her. "Here. Just one."

Chuckling, Amelia lifted their son up to pass him off to his father. "We missed you, too. You didn't have to knock. And just one?"

Cooper backed up a step to relax in the rocking chair beside her. "I thought you might be sleeping. And it wasn't so long ago I was there."

"I can never sleep when you travel without me," she replied. "We ate and we cuddled instead. What does it say?"

"I didn't read it. Breastfeeding is going well?" He wasn't even looking at her, lost in the gaze of his son, who'd actually opened his eyes when Cooper took him.

"I think we're getting the hang of it. And you know you can read them." Amelia's throat closed a bit. "If you didn't read it, did you . . . "

"Yes, of course." Cooper glanced up. "I promised I'd send the telegram, so I did. 'Amelia safely delivered of a healthy son yesterday. Stop. Amelia and baby doing well. Stop. Best regards. Stop.'"

"Thank you." Amelia looked over at them, father and son, together in the chair and smiled. Now, watching them, Amelia's heart had never been more full. Serendipity. Then she saw Cooper yawn deeply. "You look exhausted."

"I'm a new father. I'm supposed to look exhausted."

"Maybe, but - wait! how long were you gone?"

"I have not been present in this hospital for two hours," Cooper said, touching his son's little nose as the boy closed his eyes again.

"That is not what I asked."

A sigh. "Fine. Ten hours."

"Ten hours! And I don't suppose you slept! We've talked about this, Cooper. Chronolag has the potential to be harmful. Not to mention I need you at your full strength right now." The letter she still had not read hit the sheet with crumple.

"I know, I know. Just this once. Wells wasn't home when I first got there, I had to kill time in a pub where I ran into Mr. Johnson and then you know how he can carry on - he sends his felicitations by the way - and then the telegraph office and finally back to see Wells. But I wanted to come back as soon as I could. I missed you." Cooper looked up her, imploringly.

"You didn't tell him anything, did you?" Amelia asked, her voice softening.

"No. You know he's never written a book based on 21st-century birthing practices." Cooper leaned his head back against the chair and started rocking.

"Maybe we should look it up on Wikipedia to be safe."

Cooper smiled and closed his eyes. Amelia smiled at them once more, and opened her letter to her mother's handwriting.

_July 1888, Kansas_

_Dear Amelia and Cooper-  
_ _It is full summer now, which I know means you are busy sewing for your future blessing. I remember waiting for your arrival. I will say an extra prayer for you every morning in this month. After the horrible blizzard this past winter, I welcome the heat -_

Cooper's phone dinged, which startled him. Poor Cooper, he'd just fallen asleep. His jerk made the baby wake and fuss, too.

"Here, I'll take him," Amelia said. Taking her son, she shushed him as Cooper took out his phone.

"It's Leo. They're on their way up."

"Your first visitors!" Amelia said in a sing-song voice to her baby, smilingly down at him.

A couple of minutes later, there was a knock at the door and she and Cooper yelled in unison for their friends to enter.

"Congratulations!" Leo said, sitting a ballon bouquet on the bedside table. He put his hand out, and he and Cooper shook hands. Amelia raised her eyebrows and then smiled at how manly they were acting, as though either one of them had done any work to bring a baby into the world.

"Hey, sweetie!" Penelope bent over her, smelling like that floral perfume she always wore. "Ohhh, he's beautiful!" she cooed. "Just perfect."

"Of course he is," Cooper said, sitting down in the rocking chair again.

"Was it awful?" Penelope asked.

Amelia shrugged. "It wasn't pleasant. But it was much better than I'd imagined. Epidurals are a miracle. You really do have everything here, you don't know how lucky you are."

"Aren't you glad I insisted we didn't have him at home? Imagine the mess!" Cooper shuddered with disgust.

"Would you like to hold him?" Amelia asked Penelope, ignoring him. She had only half-heartedly suggested that their child ought to be born at home, where he would grow up and be loved, like she was. Before she could even add, though, that it was best, given the medical situation, that they have him in the hospital, Cooper had adamantly interrupted her to say that there would be no amniotic fluids in their bed. Yes, he'd been correct about that, too.

Penelope nodded, sat on the edge of the bed, and took the warm bundle from her. "Hey, little guy! We're going to have so much fun together! Did Mommy and Daddy decide on a name for you yet?"

"We did. Errol Edward Shelton," Amelia said proudly. "We took your advice; Sterling Cooper was already taken."

"Errol? You don't hear that anymore," Leo said.

"It was becoming popular in the 1920s," Amelia explained. "And Edward is my father's name."

"I think it's cute," Penelope said, kissing little Errol's forehead and handing him back to Amelia. "I liked Sterling, too, but I think you'll be pleased you didn't name him after the firm in  _Mad Men_. That's a old name, too, isn't it? Sterling?"

"Yes," Cooper said. "We were quite inspired by our last trip together to the Roaring Twenties, it seems."

Amelia took a deep breath of her son, then let him wrap his hand around her finger. Yes, they were quite inspired, indeed.

"I just hope you weren't inspired while you were in the 1920s, if you know what I mean," Leo said.

"Why not?" Amelia looked up sharply.

"Because, you know, it could be like  _Doctor Who_. Amy is pregnant in the TARDIS and River Song is born as a Time Lord. Sort of." Leo chuckled. "Errol could be the next Doctor!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Cooper snorted. Amelia looked at him and he added, "That's all just science fiction, you know. Emphasis on  _fiction_."

"Well, we all thought time travel was, too, until it happened to you," Penelope said.

Amelia and Cooper's eyes met over the top their son's head.

THE END

* * *

_**Where to go from here? If you have a suggestion for a period in time or especially some idea for a shenanigan that our favorite time traveling couple can into, please send me a message and I'll give it serious consideration.** _

_**Thank you for your reviews! Coopmelia forever!** _


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